Is There Anyone in the World Who Knows Me? (13)
Is There Anyone in the World Who Knows Me? (13)
"Mmph! Mmmph! Mm! Hmmmph!"
From dawn, people hurried about. In the center of the Seokcheon government office, a bound official thrashed desperately. I sat on him as if he were a chair and surveyed the surroundings. The area was packed with flammables—barrels of liquor, a few handfuls of gunpowder, and oil drums added to the mix.
The office doors were shut, and a gag had been stuffed in his mouth to prevent any sound from escaping. He shook his head from side to side and writhed like a worm, as if denying the fate closing in on him. I spoke.
"I liked drawing when I was little. In that one-room house, when I was alone, there was nothing. You probably wouldn't understand even if I told you, but the neighborhood I lived in actually had plenty of things to play with. Those... weird arcade machines and stuff. White ones, right? The trouble was, if you didn't have money, you couldn't use them. It was a great neighborhood for playing alone, you know what I mean?"
"Mmph! Mm mmph!"
The official looked up at me and nodded. He had no idea what I was talking about, but he was playing along for now. They said he'd survived by walking a tightrope, and it was impressive how desperately he still tried to humor me, even at this very moment.
I waved my hand in the air and said.
"So, to draw a picture, you unfold the back of an expired calendar like this. Then you draw lines all over the place to create the scene you want. For example, if I wanted to draw the magnificent Yangtze River, I'd just force it—slash two lines on the calendar and call that a river."
Of course, pictures drawn like that usually went awry. Since I drew the river so big and thick, it was awkward to fit in the buildings, and adding fine details on top was hard. So my drawings usually ended up as half-baked failures.
"There's no way a pretty picture could come out of drawing like that. Partway through, I happened to look at a book on drawing. It said you have to start with the large forms first. So, instead of forcing in what I want to draw, I should begin with basic masses, little by little—how they'll harmonize with the surroundings, and how to arrange the objects."
I raised one finger and placed a dot in the air.
"And then, once you place the dot like this, the picture is complete."
"Mmph! Mm mmph! Mmmmph! Mmph!"
The official nodded, sweating coldly. He was clinging to a thread-thin hope. That if he humored me now, he would live. That he could untie the ropes, come back out, and strut around just like before.
Of course, it was nothing but a vain hope.
Even if the Zhongnan Sect's raid failed today, he had to die.
No, for the Zhongnan Sect's raid to fail, he absolutely had to die.
I stroked the official's head and said.
"So think of it this way. It's not an unjust death, but burning your body to complete someone's grand picture."
"Mmph! Mm mmph! Mmmmph! Mmmph!"
The official flapped around like a mackerel at the fish market. I left the bastard and opened the door to step outside.
As soon as I came out, the bustling people dragged the oil drums and gunpowder kegs I'd placed inside closer to the entrance, tied the official even more tightly, and secured him to the floor.
The official twisted his body desperately, but there was no chance he'd break free. I glanced to the side.
"Understood? When those bastards invade, act according to the plan. Don't worry, just move, trusting only us!"
When the man who had come to Seokcheon with me barked his orders with a scowl, the soldiers of the government office all cowered with terrified faces, none daring to step forward. It was a truly curious thing. Soldiers who would normally resent martial artists obeyed the man's orders like ghosts.
He glared at one soldier with the fierce eyes of a drill instructor and said.
"You there! Recite your role."
The soldier snapped his body rigid as if he'd become a dragon horse and answered.
"Yes! When the ba-bastards invade, I raise the alarm, circle the wall of the office, and stand by at the village's thatched house!"
"And after that?"
"Th-then, when the signal is heard, I charge back in and drive the bastards out!"
"Hmm, very good. Right. Everyone do this. Understood?"
"Yes! Comman—"
"Ahem! I said great hero!"
The man said that and watched for my reaction. Since whether he was a commander or commandant was none of my concern, I pretended not to hear. We were in the same boat now, anyway. There was no need to know his identity, nor to let on that I'd noticed.
He turned toward me with a stiff, parade-ground motion. And then he said this.
"Preparations are complete. I've thoroughly silenced the soldiers, and I've also checked through informants whether there were any collaborators."
"Were there?"
"There was one person used as a liaison with the Zhongnan Sect."
"There was, I see."
"Yes."
The man nodded as if it were a matter of course. A traitor who would sell the village's future for a few coins was always right to kill.
Since Jong Yuseop couldn't hear internal information, he had no way of knowing what preparations we had made. Meanwhile, we clearly knew the attack methods and timing of the Zhongnan Sect, including Jong Yuseop. The man said.
"We'll be the ones to set the fire inside. We plan to light the fuse of the thunderbolt pellets and roll them out as the bastards approach."
"There must be no mistakes."
The man gave a meaningful smile at my words and said.
"We do not make mistakes. We are the renowned..."
"Renowned?"
"...martial artists, after all."
That's right. Martial artists don't make mistakes.
I decided to trust his words.
**********
The day of the operation. Having reached the vicinity of Seokcheon, Jong Yuseop wiped a hand down his long face. It was an operation he had carried out countless times. He had sold more than ten districts into the hands of his sect, and cut down countless officials and villagers who offered meaningless resistance.
It was a routine operation, so there should be no failure,
But,
today, an ominous premonition was churning in his head.
A chill ran through his body for some reason, and his limbs tingled. To shake off the anxious feeling, Jong Yuseop asked.
"What's the situation inside?"
"They say that before dawn, men were used to haul a whole load of liquor barrels into the government office. And the soldiers did some brief military training, then all scattered around lunchtime."
It was the perfect condition for a surprise attack. Just in case, Jong Yuseop questioned again.
"Is there no contact from the informant?"
"He said he was going to the next village and hasn't returned yet. He's a fellow who likes to play around, and since he shouldn't get caught up in the operation, he probably pulled himself out early."
"Who did you say the martial artist was who agreed to cooperate on today's operation?"
"A fellow called Jeolpungdo. A second-rate martial artist with some influence in his area, and he plans to establish a sect here with his crew."
"Good. Then we prepare immediately."
Jong Yuseop steeled his heart. From what he'd roughly heard, there seemed to be nothing to be anxious about. The official had been guzzling liquor barrels since dawn and was asleep; the soldiers had all disbanded; only a few were visible on guard.
His anxiety was simply from losing confidence.
Jong Yuseop adjusted his grip on his sword.
He absolutely had to succeed this time, so he had to have confidence.
If he failed again this time, he truly wouldn't have the face to see Venerable Geumbok.
********
"Waaaaaaah!"
The hour pointing to midnight.
The soldier guarding the main gate of the government office spotted the 'bandits' charging out from the forest with a war cry and torches in hand. The startled soldier threw down his weapon in fright, then circled around the wall and fled to a different house.
"Aaaaaagh! Bandits have appeared!"
As if his voice had become the signal, the soldiers, without a single exception, scattered in all directions and fled the government office. Jong Yuseop smiled beneath his mask. Things were proceeding smoothly. The bandits swaggered through the village, and the official didn't even think of showing his face.
The soldiers all ran away without any will to fight. The masked Jong Yuseop pointed at his junior martial brother and said.
"You go subdue the official and open the office gates wide!"
"Yes!"
Leading a few other disciples, Jong Yuseop's junior brother charged confidently into the government office. Inside the empty office, only the official's room was brightly lit. The shadows of liquor barrels flickered brazenly. He sneered and muttered.
"It's because a pathetic fool like this governs the village that we come calling."
He boldly crossed the courtyard and grabbed the door. Just before opening it, the junior brother tilted his head at the faint smell of oil and gunpowder.
"What's this smell?"
When he opened the door, the junior brother could see the official, tightly bound in ropes and thrashing, the liquor barrels crowded at the entrance, and on the opposite side, a man picking up a thunderbolt pellet and throwing it.
"Huh?"
The junior brother simply tilted his head, unable to grasp the situation.
And then.
*******
Peong!
At the bone-chilling sound of the explosion, Jong Yuseop spun around. The government office he had sent his junior brother to subdue had exploded with a roar, shattering and burning. Not only Jong Yuseop but the other Zhongnan Sect members were equally flustered, looking at each other.
That wasn't the only bewildering thing.
"Waaaaaah!"
"Fight! Defend our district from the bandit bastards!"
"Uwaaaaaaaah!"
From all directions, soldiers wielding weapons charged out with battle cries.
With a bewildered face, Jong Yuseop cut down the soldier rushing at him.
What to do?
What to do now?
There were only two choices left for Jong Yuseop.
Kill innocent people indiscriminately here until Jeolpungdo arrived,
Or just run away.
********
"Kkeuk...! Ueuk...! Do... do you know who I am...?"
At the same moment, Docheol looked down impassively at the martial artist collapsed at his feet. All around, figures who appeared to be his subordinates lay scattered in pieces. The man with an axe lodged in his chest glared at Docheol with an aggrieved expression.
Docheol said.
"Who the hell else could you be, bastard. A Zhongnan Sect lackey."
"I, I am... not a Zh-Zhongnan Sect subordinate.... I am J-Jeol..."
Jeolpungdo could not speak his own name before drawing his last breath.
Stroking his chin, Docheol turned his gaze toward the government office, now fully ablaze.
People were swarming, and the sound of swords clashing could be heard.
Jong Yuseop would be over there, fighting excitedly, because Jeolpungdo was supposed to come and save the villagers.
But Jeolpungdo wouldn't be coming.
No matter how many people Jong Yuseop killed and robbed over there, he couldn't achieve his goal.
Now, there were only two choices left for Jong Yuseop.
Kill all the villagers and become a real bandit,
Or run away, even now.